Cheers
by Jessa4865
Summary: A New Year's Eve story. EO Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Cheers  
Jezyk  
Spoilers: Anything's fair game through Paternity  
Disclaimer: No one would listen if I said they were mine anyhow.

Chapter One

_December 31__st  
__11:32 AM_

Olivia folded her phone and slipped it back into her pocket. Glancing at her partner across her desk, she decided Elliot was in a good enough mood. "Hey, El, you have plans tonight?"

He looked up from the papers he'd been sorting and shrugged. "No, probably just going home and not getting any sleep." With a baby just over a month old, the normally handsome man had been looking a little more tired and unhappy everyday. He'd actually arrived at work more than once without having shaved, not even realizing his mistake until his partner prodded him.

She shook her head, feeling bad that the man seemed to have forgotten the holiday. "Casey wants to go out. Want to come along?"

"I'd probably be a wet blanket considering that I haven't slept in a month."

"You're coming." She turned away, not wanting to see the surprise in his eyes when she continued. "It's New Year's Eve and if anyone has ever needed to get completely trashed, it's you."

It took him a long time to respond, which Olivia was sure could be blamed on him checking at least three sources to verify the date. "I'm not much of a drinker, you know."

She winked at him, unable to hold back her playfulness at the idea of getting drunk with the gorgeous man who starred in more of her dreams than she cared to admit. "And you call yourself an Irishman."

Rolling his eyes, a smile spread across his features. "Who else is going?"

"At the moment?" Her eyes darted across the aisle, seeing that Fin was pretending not to be listening in while Lake was legitimately occupied with a phone call. "Hey, Fin, you up for going out tonight?"

He nodded eagerly. "Where to?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet." She shrugged, keeping a careful eye on Lake. "Does it matter?"

"No, not really. I'm in." As his partner disconnected the call, he smiled at Olivia. "Thanks for the heads up on that case."

It took everything in her not to turn to her own partner and say 'so there.' She didn't like Lake. Fin didn't like Lake. Elliot kept wanting everyone to give him a chance. As long as she and Fin stayed on the same side, she could continue trying to convince Elliot that he was wrong.

Instead she looked at Elliot, lowering her voice so as not to interest Lake. "Me, Fin, Casey, and you."

Lake was interested anyway, eavesdropping as always on things that he knew weren't meant to involve him. "Making plans for tonight or for a double date?"

Olivia faked a friendly smile. "Double date."

Disbelieving, Lake looked at Elliot for the truth. But Elliot knew better than to contradict his partner in public, even more so where the interloper, as Olivia and Fin had tagged him, was concerned, so he nodded guiltily.

"Aren't you married?"

Elliot immediately turned to Olivia, figuring it was her lie and therefore her responsibility to explain herself.

She smiled. "He's a Mormon, you know, polygamy and all that." At her words, Fin started to snicker and Elliot's face turned bright red.

Lake looked even less convinced. "He said he was Catholic."

Olivia rolled her eyes and smiled sweetly at her partner. "El, how many times have I told you that you don't need to lie. We all accept your beliefs. You don't have to be ashamed."

After another round of looking at his coworkers' faces, Lake went back to work.

Elliot stood up, grabbing a cup of coffee and stopping by Olivia's desk to whisper in an effort to keep Lake out of it entirely. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Olivia smiled, thinking of a certain shirt she had every intention of wearing. She'd actually worn the shirt the last time she'd played hooker as it was the perfect chance to wear the tight, low-cut, fire-engine red shirt. It was the only occasion she'd had so far to wear it, but she'd been desperate for another since Eliot had barely been able to peel his eyes off her chest. "How about you do my penance and I'll buy you a drink?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'd agree, but you'll probably stick me with the tab."

"Only because I don't bring money when I go out to get drunk." She shrugged once Elliot was back at his desk. "It's too dangerous."

"Expensive too."

_December 31__st  
__1:17 PM_

"Where do you want to go for lunch?" Elliot was staring at a pile of menus by the coffee pot, repeatedly picking through the pile as though one of the six different menus from various Chinese restaurants would suddenly jump out at him.

She shook her head. "Some place with a salad bar. I'm not that hungry."

"I'm not dragging your drunk, puking ass home from a bar to start off my new year. Eat something." Elliot took away the deli menu, the only place that had salads.

Leaning close enough to distract him entirely from the conversation, she snagged the deli menu from behind his back. "If I each a big lunch, I won't eat dinner, and then I'll be drunk on one beer."

Elliot was quiet, at first glance he seemed to be considering her statement. But Olivia knew him better and she knew that her proximity had him totally off balance, which was exactly why she paid a couple hundred dollars for each bottle of her perfume. Winding Elliot around her finger more with every moment she was near him was so worth it. She enjoyed the moment, the way his mouth hung slightly open, the way his eyes lowered to her lips, the way his quickening pulse was obvious from the veins that stood out suddenly from his neck.

Her eyes reflected her smile, which she hoped looked more like friendship than victory. "El?" She held back a giggle as she put her hand on his arm, leaning in once again and faking concern to anyone who looked while allowing her voice to drop to a sultry tone for Elliot's ears only. "Still hungry?"

He swallowed hard enough for her to hear it. "Huh?" His eyes were still locked on her lips.

Faking irritation, she put her index finger under his chin. "My face is up here."

"I wasn't- I didn't- I would never-" A blush colored his face as he tried to beg for mercy.

She continued to pretend that she'd misinterpreted his stare because it was easier. He could hold onto his masculinity by defending himself against a charge of being a prick better than he could feign having any control in their relationship if she pointed out that her perfume rendered him putty in her hands.

"Promise to buy me a drink and I'll forgive you."

"Deal." He glanced at her, guilty red still staining his cheeks. "I swear, Liv, I wasn't-" And then his eyes narrowed. "So now we're even and you don't have to buy me a drink for not turning you in for lying like a rug."

She shrugged and handed the menu for the deli to him. "You weren't going to do my penance anyway."

"You got me there." He began dialing the number for the deli. "There's no point in trying to change your evil ways now."

"You love it." She bumped her hip against his as she stepped past him, turning back to wink at his stunned expression. "And we both know it."

_December 31__st  
__2:08 PM_

Olivia and Elliot were eating their lunch when Lake leaned on Olivia's desk. She looked up at him, not even trying to hide her dismay. "Can I help you?"

"Where are you going tonight?" Lake's hopeful smile irked Olivia even more than his dopey smile.

Olivia went with playing stupid and stared at him. "Tonight? What makes you think I'm going anywhere?" It wasn't a good idea to deny anything, just in case Fin had asked his partner out of guilt.

"I was just wondering what you're doing for New Year's." His hopeful smile flashed at her again and Olivia realized that his hopeful smile was exactly the same as his dopey smile, but somehow simultaneously more irritating. "Because you are far too beautiful to not have plans tonight."

"Are you hitting on me?" She knew he wasn't, she knew he was just trying to find someone to latch onto for the evening, but she knew how Elliot would react if she pretended that she was being harassed in some way. Plus, when it came down to it, she felt kind of shitty about dodging the guy and she didn't want to have to lie to him again.

Elliot's eyes lifted from his sandwich, narrowing in anger at Olivia's words. By the time Lake was in the process of denying that he was saying anything inappropriate, Elliot was already on his way around the back-to-back desks. By the time Olivia realized that the way she'd flirted with Elliot only a bit earlier had left him upset and frustrated with no way to resolve it in the meantime, Elliot had shoved Lake into the wall. By the time Fin crossed the room and pulled Elliot away from Lake, there was already a huge red welt on the shorter man's throat from Elliot's forearm.

"What the hell is going on out here?" The captain's angry voice filled the air, silencing the whole room and drawing the attention of anyone who'd managed to miss the fireworks.

Olivia stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork and pretended her heart wasn't racing from the protective, possessive display Elliot had just put on. "Chester was asking about one of the old cases. Fin and Elliot were demonstrating how the perp overpowered his victims."

The older man took a moment, probably mentally cataloging their old cases to figure out if it was possible. Finally, he nodded. "Ok, good. As long as there's no trouble." Ever since his temporary bump sideways, Cragen had been particularly sensitive to anyone acting in a way that would make it look like he didn't have complete control over his unit.

The four detectives immediately returned to their work, putting off any sort of resolution. The captain wanted to think everyone was getting along and when the captain got what he wanted, he was a happy captain. And happy captains didn't try to exact revenge on his detectives.

_December 31__st  
__3:00 PM_

Olivia was staring at Elliot while he worked. She loved it when he pushed up his sleeves. There was just something about the muscles rippling in his arms at even the lightest work of moving a pen that made her insides gooey.

He looked up, caught her eye, and smiled.

She thought about the way he'd jumped to her defense, threatening a man he was friends with simply because she'd pretended to be uncomfortable. Guilt or not, a shiver ran through her.

She thought about his muscular arms, which she got to see on a regular basis. She thought about his ripped torso, which she got to see on occasion. She thought about what he would look like naked, his bulky muscles undoubtedly dwarfed by the impressive package she imagined would be there, which she also imagined would be at full attention.

And then something else ran through her and she shifted miserably in her freshly damp panties.

_December 31__st  
__5:56 PM_

Olivia leaned her head back against the tub, inhaling the relaxing vanilla aroma of her bath salts. She rarely took the time to have a leisurely soak in the tub, but she felt allowing herself the feminine indulgence every now and then kept her from getting too tense. Besides, she thought with a giggle, she'd read somewhere that the scent vanilla was rated by men as being the biggest turn on among perfumes. Toying with Elliot had become her second job since he'd returned to his wife. She didn't think he deserved the slightest bit of mercy since he was hardly a saint when he'd been single.

In fact, it was after running into yet another person they both knew from work who'd been privy to parts of Elliot that Olivia herself had never gotten a chance at. The idea that he'd been running through their mutual acquaintance mental rolodex on his lothario quest pissed her off.

Irritated, she clenched her jaw and pulled the stopper from the tub. Oh yeah, she decided, he deserved anything she could dish out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_December 31__st  
__6:13PM_

Her hair was dry, the short strands carefully twisted around a curling iron and sprayed heavily so they would look exactly like she hadn't carefully twisted them around a curling iron and sprayed them still. She turned her head side to side, using a hand mirror to make sure the back looked perfect too.

Pleased with her work on her hair, she moved onto makeup. Normally she played it safe, wearing neutral colors and tried to keep herself looking natural. She'd been caught in her share of rainstorms without an umbrella over the years and it had taught her not to bother too much for her work look. But it was New Year's Eve, the one night of the year a woman could go completely over the top without fear of reproach or having people mistake her for a whore. She played up her eyes the most – lining them heavily and adding eye shadow and mascara. Elliot had a thing for innocent, wide-eyed women and although she knew she'd never convince him that she was naïve, she'd created the wide-eyed look perfectly. Not taking time to admire her eyes, she finished the rest of her makeup quickly. She added powder and blush before she selected a bright red lipstick. It was the one she kept for going undercover, a lesson she'd learned after getting cold sore from borrowing someone else's on her first hooker assignment. Since then, she'd kept her own stock of candy colored lipstick which she rarely used any other time. But it would look hot with her shirt and she figured she might as well go all out. And the idea that Elliot might spend an hour trying to scrub the stain of it off his shirt before he finally gave up and hid the shirt in his locker at work amused her.

It had happened before or she never would have associated her partner with such a sentimental gesture. They'd been undercover, of course, and they'd been playing a very recently married couple. She'd gone to town with it, leaving streaks of her burgundy lipstick all over his collar while she'd nipped at his neck. It was all in character, she swore, and Elliot's physical reaction had been the icing on the cake – although the man they'd been trying to fool hadn't noticed it immediately, he had noticed the way Elliot shifted his "wife" in his lap and the subtle way he'd started to rock her hips. The man had been convinced and left them some privacy. Elliot had been so embarrassed that his whole head seemed to be bright red – face, neck, even his ears. And the fact that he was still hard as a rock and Olivia was still in his lap at the time, well, that might well have been the first time she'd realized she had all the control. She'd grinned at him and feigned stupidity when she asked him what was the matter, all the time pretending that her own rocking hips were an unconscious reaction to his body. And he'd proved her theory right then, growling as his face fell forward onto her shoulder, his arms bracing her when he allowed himself one single thrust against her without any pretense of being undercover.

Of course, the power had immediately shifted back to him, even though he'd never realized it. Because it had only been one thrust, because his body was shaking for wanting her, because his face pressed into her neck as he held her, just letting their bodies share contact while they both regained control of themselves. Any other man she'd ever known would have taken what she'd been perfectly willing to give, would have fucked her hard and fast before anyone could wonder what was happening. Elliot's careful, sweet, chivalrous hug had sunk her completely. She'd fallen in love with him in that moment and she'd never quite been able to get a handle on her feelings in the six years since.

It had been a scary revelation and she'd gone in to work the next morning, expecting that she'd be working in a new department by the end of the day. But she'd bumped into Elliot in the locker room, doubled over the sink, scrubbing endlessly at the shirt collar. She'd inquired as to why he didn't just take it home for Kathy to clean, since one look at the hot water and hand soap he'd been using told Olivia that the stain was so thoroughly set in that nothing would ever get it out. He'd looked up, holding her eyes for a long time before his glance dropped to her feet and slowly raked up her body.

"I'm not telling my wife you were sucking on my neck yesterday. I'm not stupid or suicidal."

She'd grinned, realizing what he was admitting, which was so much more than he knew. Not only was he reiterating that he was attracted to her, but he was also telling her that his wife had noticed her looks, his wife was uncomfortable with their partnership, he didn't blame his wife for her upset, and he'd still chosen to stay her partner. Not to mention that he was referencing the fact that they'd actually been making out rather than simply playing at it.

She took pity on him and pointed out that hot water had set the stain, expecting that moments later, the shirt would find a new home in the trash can.

However, a few months later, after Elliot had been injured and was at the hospital getting his hand stitched up, he dispatched Olivia back to the precinct to retrieve a spare shirt from his locker to avoid scaring his wife by going home in a blood spattered shirt. When she searched through the narrow metal cabinet, she came up with what she thought was the extra shirt. Pulling it out to look at it, she found it was wrinkled, especially at the elbows, where he tended to bunch his shirts, and at the waist, where it had clearly already been tucked into his pants. She was trying to guess if that was the shirt he'd intended her to get, if perhaps he'd forgotten that his spare shirt was dirty. It was then that she noticed the collar, still smeared with the lipstick stains that he'd only exacerbated with his attempt to clean. She sat down on the bench, smiling stupidly at the shirt that he held onto.

It wasn't like Kathy would have found it in the trash at the precinct. It was obvious that Elliot had chosen not to throw it away. Even if he'd originally intended to return to his attempt to clean it, after months had passed, even Elliot knew the stain wasn't going anywhere. But he still had it. Quite thoroughly happy with her lot in life, she found the shirt she was actually looking for, replaced the stained one, and headed back to her wounded partner.

_December 31__st  
__6:29 PM_

She checked her watch as she headed to her bedroom. Casey was meeting her at 6:30 and Olivia was already late. It wasn't worth hurrying though. She wanted to look perfect and Casey would probably be so wrapped up on some work call that she'd never notice unless Olivia told her.

She needed to take the time to get ready. Slacks or jeans were her clothing of choice on any given day. On the days far too uncommon to be called rare that she needed to wear a skirt for work, she was playing a woman who wouldn't waste time on pantyhose. So she was a little uncoordinated as she stretched the sheer black nylons over her legs. The skirt she'd decided to wear was short, as though she believed in any other kind, but it was so short that the stockings were required to avoid getting herself picked up by the cops.

She giggled again thinking that she wouldn't mind getting picked up by a certain cop.

The next piece of her ensemble was a skimpy, lacy black push up bra that matched the itsy bitsy triangle that was just not big enough to quite be considered a thong she wore under the pantyhose.

Because she couldn't say for sure, but she wasn't about to rule out bringing home a playmate.

The skirt was next, followed by the shiny red blouse. The skirt was simple – no buttons or zippers, only elastic. The blouse was slightly more complicated since she had to look in the mirror to twist the tie together just right and knotting something while looking at a reflection was difficult. On the third try, she got it right, tight enough to be revealing, but loose enough to look like the revelation was unintentional.

The last piece was her shoes, a strappy satin number with a heel high enough to make it easy to reach any guy, most especially the one she really wanted to grab by the shoulders and kiss without needing him to bend down or cooperate in anyway. Just in case.

_December 31__st  
__6:44 PM_

She stopped back in the bathroom long enough to check her appearance in the full length mirror on the back of the door. Her lips twisted into a huge smile, admiring the image. She never spent so much time to get ready. Hell, half the time she showed up at work in clothes she'd pulled out of the dry cleaning pile and prayed weren't too wrinkled since she'd overslept and didn't have time to iron or even open the closet for something clean.

Poor Elliot. He did try to be a good guy and keep his eyes on his wife. And even when he'd been single, he'd dated mostly women who somewhat resembled his wife physically. The one time he'd seen Olivia in her precious red blouse, she had been wearing her typical demure white cotton underneath that worked better as a minimizer than the maximizer she was wearing at the moment. All in all, she knew full well Elliot had probably never seen cleavage the likes of which he'd be facing that night. And if he had, she knew it had never been in person.

A shiver ran through her at the thought that Elliot might just be the toy mouse she brought home that night. And Olivia had ever intention of chasing and swatting and devouring him like a good kitty.

_December 31__st  
__7:02 PM_

With an apologetic smile, she sat down at the table across from Casey. "Sorry I'm late."

As expected, Casey had her phone glued to her ear while she worked on her salad. She held up her finger, indicating that she'd only be a minute. While she waited, Olivia ordered spaghetti, passing on the salad since she'd had one for lunch. She'd only taken one sip of her wine when Casey hung up.

"I'm sorry about that. Work, you know." Casey picked up her glass and held it out. "What should we drink to?"

Olivia grinned. "Yeah, I know work." She picked up her glass as well. "How about we toast people getting their just desserts in the new year?" As coworkers, Olivia knew Casey would think she was referring to the slimy jerks they usually dealt with together. And while that interpretation was perfectly applicable to her comment, her actual intention was rather unrelated.

Because as far as she was concerned, Kathy had given up her claim by throwing Elliot out in the first place. It didn't matter that she'd later changed her mind or that Elliot felt it was his primary responsibility in life to meet Kathy's demands. Olivia had waited her turn. Years had passed while she behaved herself, dressed demurely, and only rarely gave into the temptation to flirt shamelessly with another woman's husband. In Olivia's theory of relationships, Kathy's attempt to divorce Elliot put her smack dab at the back of the lengthy line to snatch up the catch. And although Olivia had unwittingly let a dozen coworkers in front of her in line, she rationalized that no damage had been done for two reasons – first, he could term any or every single one of them his rebound as opposed to her and second, none of them were a threat to Olivia.

As their glasses clinked together, Olivia thought about her just dessert and wondered if she'd been enjoying him in the first few hours of the year.

Casey's eyes finally fell on Olivia's shirt, having been preoccupied when she'd come in, and she choked on her wine. "Wow. That's – um- do you have a date?" Casey looked disappointed and her shoulders drooped as she set her glass down. "Don't tell me you're backing out on me."

Olivia shook her head, continuing to swallow her alcohol down to make sure she got a good start before she could make herself sick from eating too much pasta. Because she was in the process of bottoming out a glass of wine, and then the refill since the waitstaff in the swanky restaurant was overzealous about refills, it took Olivia a bit longer than it normally would have to notice that Casey was staring at her.

Once Casey was sure she had Olivia's attention, she made quite a show out of peeking under the table at the bottom half of Olivia's outfit. She came up laughing. "So, desperate much?"

Olivia's mouth dropped open, not quite believing what her friend had said. And then, in case Casey didn't realize it hadn't been appreciated, Olivia tossed the piece of bread she was buttering at the blonde as well. "Fuck you." She picked a new piece of bread out of the basket and began buttering that one.

"Should I ask who else you invited to dinner?" Looking around, Casey clearly expected someone to drop in on them at any moment.

"I didn't invite anyone to dinner. You said you made reservations for two." She kind of hoped Casey would drop it, especially since Casey hadn't missed the I'm-getting-me-some attire.

No such luck. "Then who's meeting us at Murphy's?"

Olivia was quite thankful for the waiter who interrupted to deliver two steaming plates of spaghetti. She was kind of hoping it would throw Casey off the scent. But two minutes into the meal, Casey put her fork down and tried again.

"You know I'm going to find out anyway."

The fact was that Olivia had been hoping to pretend that it was all a coincidence, that she and Casey would just happen to bump into Elliot and Fin and since they were all friends of sorts, they would all hang out together. She pushed the food around on her plate. "This is really good." It wasn't anything special, not really, but she was hoping to distract Casey.

Casey was still working on her first glass when Olivia was starting her third and therefore, Casey was a bit sharper. "Is it someone I know or are you just aiming to pick up the first guy who looks your way?"

Annoyed, Olivia glared. "You'd make a good hunting dog." Before Casey had the chance to pronounce that she was drunk, Olivia admitted to some of the truth. "I mentioned it to some guys at the precinct, so they might show up."

The statement confused Casey. She picked up her wine and worked her way through it before she replied. "I doubt there are very many coworkers you would want to see dressed like that."

Olivia felt her face starting to burn from the blush, realizing that she'd probably dropped quite a few hints as to her feelings for Elliot over the years. "Some of them are pigs. Some of them are cute."

"But none of them are as cute as Elliot Stabler." Casey was only making an observation, since she had no particular designs on the man, but Olivia's response revealed the truth to her. "Liv, seriously, you have a crush on him?"

Refusing to lift her face out of her hands where she'd buried it, Olivia shook her head. "No, absolutely not. I do not have a crush on Elliot." She finally dared to look up, her somber face drawing some of the amusement from Casey's. "I'm in love with him."

It was Casey's turn to play with her dinner, twirling it around on the fork over and over again. "I don't want to ruin your night or anything, but he's married." Casey dropped her fork to sip at the replacement glass of wine. "And he just had a baby."

Olivia shrugged. "He's not blind, Casey." Not wanting to seem obnoxious or conceited, she offered more of an explanation. "There's something between us, Casey. Something I can't pretend doesn't exist. Something he barely bothers to pretend doesn't exist." She gulped at her wine, the ramifications of her admission starting to sink in. "And he's miserable in that marriage anyway."

Casey shrugged, deciding it wasn't worth getting into an argument since she wasn't involved. "Just be careful. No man is worth your career, so don't do anything unless you'll be able to face him tomorrow."

Olivia nodded. "Good advice."

Casey smiled, raising her glass again, that time with a full understanding of the toast. "To everyone getting what they deserve this year."

Olivia clinked her glass against Casey's. "Amen to that."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_December 31__st  
__8:35 PM_

The pair was slightly tipsy when they arrived at Murphy's. They were also a bit later than the eight o'clock time Olivia had suggested to the guys. Casey was the first one through the door and therefore also the first one to fight her way through the crowd toward the tables in the back. Olivia kept her fingers wrapped around the strap of Casey's purse, staying connected to her somewhat more sober friend.

It wasn't only to keep from getting lost. Olivia knew her outfit was special and she didn't want the effect dulled by allowing Elliot to see it from across the room. No, it was extremely important that he be blindsided by the shirt just as she walked up to the table so that she would be sliding into the booth beside him before he realized the length of her skirt.

Because, putty or not, Elliot was a decent, married, Catholic man, despite Lake's new conviction otherwise, and he might try to ward her off in an attempt to save himself from eternal damnation. What the poor bit of prey didn't know was that he didn't stand a chance of successfully resisting. And should hell have frozen over and the man actually managed to resist, he'd be eternally damned by his partner.

But there was one possibility that Olivia hadn't counted on. She stepped to Casey's side, catching the tale end of Elliot's unhappy mutter regarding their lateness. Casey, who was a little unhappy that she'd be spending the evening with men she could never really be sure actually liked her, sat down next to Fin. The seat beside Elliot was left available, as the women had already discussed and Olivia was all set to sit in it. Except that she expected to be noticed first.

And she'd put a hell of a lot of effort into being noticed.

But that one possibility Olivia hadn't counted on was that Elliot, having cooperated fully with Olivia's expectation that he would drink heavily, was already a bit sloshed and found the tight fit of Casey's blue sweater quite to his liking. His eyes were glued to the rack that Olivia had never previously realized Casey possessed.

Unbelievably pissed off, Olivia practically threw herself down on the vinyl seat and glared at her traitorous friend. Casey shrugged unhappily, having observed both Elliot's stare and Olivia's anger. Olivia reached across the table and stole Fin's drink, since Elliot was only having beer, smiling as the bourbon burned her throat. It was only then that she passed him a smile, mentally praising the man she could always count on to have a drink strong enough to put hair on her chest.

And then she saw the appreciative smile on his face, which was likely the reason he hadn't disputed her claim on his drink. Fin's eyes were on her, exactly where Elliot's were supposed to be. Too buzzed to care if she was being obvious, she kicked Casey under the table and then motioned at the pair of confused men.

Casey shrugged again, inclining her head toward the bar. "I think I'm going to get a drink." She stood up and turned away, making her best attempt to avoid Elliot's unfaltering gaze. "Anyone else want something?"

Olivia nodded. "Something strong." Her eyes darted to Elliot, who she suspected was starting to drool over the lawyer. "And make it a double."

Fin grinned and stood up too. "I'll make sure you get something good."

_December 31__st  
__8:44 PM_

Fin and Casey were bogged down at the bar, trying to fight their way through the crowd to get drinks. Elliot's eyes had finally left Casey's chest, but rather than defaulting to the only other person at the table, he'd chosen to stare at his beer bottle.

She decided it was her location that was causing the confusion. If she sat on the opposite side of the table, he'd notice her. She stood up and crossed around to the far side of the table, easing her way into the seat Fin had formerly occupied.

If Elliot noticed, he apparently wasn't at all surprised to see his partner only half covered by clothing.

It was a very unhappy Olivia who accepted a glass of amber liquid from Fin's steady hand and swallowed half of it before Casey sat down beside her.

_December 31__st  
__9:02 PM_

The point of having friends gather to hang out and celebrate was not for them to sit in uncomfortable silence and stare at each other. Yet, with the exception of Fin, who was particularly eager to engage Olivia, that was exactly what they were doing.

Olivia was disappointed that her plan to enthrall her partner hadn't worked. Not only hadn't worked, but had failed entirely in an utterly spectacular way. It was then, listening to Fin fall over himself to garner her attention, that Olivia remembered why she'd stopped going on out New Year's Eve. It was because there was always a guy, although it was usually a stranger, who intended to harass her all night in that hopes that would result in an invitation to her bed.

And Elliot, who was the only reason she'd thought heading out would result in something worth her time and energy, didn't care in the least that she was there, let alone that she was there for him.

That was when Olivia started drinking in earnest.

_December 31__st  
__9:28 PM_

There was only so much alcohol Olivia could drink and still be conscious enough to stay awake for midnight. Knowing she had reached the limit temporarily, she elbowed Casey in the side.

"Let's go dance." Olivia wasn't much of a dancer, but she figured her clothes would make up for any skills she was lacking.

"In a minute." Casey was trying to finish her wine, having already explained in great detail that she never left her drink anywhere, not even in the company of people she trusted.

Considering that she was in the company of three special victims detectives, her words hadn't been necessary. Personally, Olivia felt the explanation had been excessive, since the lawyer tended to get verbose when she was drunk, but Olivia wisely kept her thoughts to herself. Alienating Casey would leave her with no one to help ward off Fin and Olivia wasn't ready for that just yet.

"Ok, let's go." Casey stood up, pausing before she moved out of Olivia's way. Tact was one of the first things to disappear with intoxication, Olivia learned. "Are you dancing with me or someone else?"

For the first time all night, Olivia was thankful that Elliot was paying no attention, since Casey was motioning toward the oblivious man in what Olivia could have sworn was a rather obscene gesture.

Olivia shook her head. "You, for now." She expected that her clothing would help her locate a male partner quickly.

_December 31__st  
__9:30 PM_

Fortunately for Olivia, most of the men were interested in dancing. Unfortunately, most of them were either far drunker than she or interested primarily in dancing with their faces in her cleavage. She grabbed a confused Casey and headed back to the table, stopping at the bar on the way back for another round of drinks.

Once seated, Casey finally found words. "Do you feel like telling me what that was about?"

Olivia shrugged. "Every man in this bar is skeevey. Have you noticed that?" It wasn't on purpose that her eyes fell on Fin, but come to think of it, his smile and undivided attention was starting to freak her out.

Casey giggled, her eyes locked on Elliot, who had only just ceased to be transfixed by his beer bottle. "All but one."

Elliot immediately returned to ignoring everyone. Olivia kicked Casey, smiling when the other woman winced as the spiked heel made contact. "Thanks, Case."

Casey didn't bother to stop staring at Elliot. "No problem."

Olivia kicked her again.

_December 31st  
__9:42 PM_

Olivia Benson had a plan.

She wasn't really the sort of person who planned things. And even on the rare occasions that she came up with a plan, it was usually an attempt to waste time and had little to no reasonable chance of being followed. She'd always considered herself lucky that she was able to survive by making things up as she went along. In fact, she'd always considered it to be one of her more admirable traits.

Nonetheless, the last few years had been particularly rough and caused her to rethink a lot of things. After a considerable amount of rumination on the previous year, as well as the more disappointing year before that, she'd found one common denominator and she was hellbent on not making the same mistake a third year in a row. Her logic seemed solid and thus she decided a plan was actually called for, as opposed to normal.

In fact, she was so proud of her plan that, after the benefit of an additional glass of bourbon, she decided she wanted to tell someone.

Of course, had she not been intoxicated at the time, she might have thought better of telling anyone, particularly a table full of her coworkers.

"Casey!" Her voice was too loud and she knew it as soon as she said the word, but she couldn't quite keep the excitement out of her voice. And she'd already forgotten that she wasn't speaking to the blonde for trying to steal the man they both knew she had designs on.

Luckily, the coworkers surrounding the table had been drinking enough that they didn't particularly care that her voice was loud. They did, however, listen in as she was the only one at the table who'd bothered to speak in quite a while.

"I have a plan."

Casey had been matching her glass for glass since they'd reached the bar. Not being any closer to sober, she squealed with delight. "What kind of plan?"

"See, the last two years have sucked for me, right?" Liv didn't wait for a response. "I realized that those are the only two years I've ever spent New Year's Eve at home since I was about 12."

"So?" Perhaps it was simply that Olivia hadn't fully explained the reason why staying in was bad. Perhaps it was simply that it was New Year's Eve and Olivia clearly wasn't at home, so her plan seemed outdated. Either way, Casey was losing interest.

Fin, however, grew more and more fascinated by Olivia as he drank, which was one of the reasons the two mutually decided to rarely drink together. "Good thing you came out tonight, right?"

Olivia smiled, still somewhat happy that Fin was so openly appreciative of the low cut shirt she'd worn even if Elliot, whose happily married ass was the reason she'd chosen it, had barely appeared to notice she was even there. "Obviously, if I don't kiss someone at midnight, I have a really shitty year."

For the first time in the evening, Elliot fixed his eyes on her. Had Olivia been sober, she would have known he was convinced she was trying to get him riled up enough to hit someone. But she wasn't sober. She was drunk and so, like any perfectly irrational drunk woman who'd finally succeeded in getting the attention of the man she'd been trying to interest for several years, she ignored him and looked at Casey.

Casey's eyes widened. "Who are you going to kiss?" A few drinks in the normally somber woman had her giggling over gossip like a teenage girl.

Unfortunately, Olivia wasn't fully versed in planning and had only gotten so far in her plan. She hadn't realized the necessity of hatching a fully formed plan in any hopes of achieving her aim. She shrugged. "Whoever the hell is next to me at midnight."

"Good plan. Good, good plan. I like it. I'll do it too." Casey nodded several times until she finally grasped the table to regain her balance.

Fin grinned eagerly. "Somebody want to switch seats?" His gaze was directed at the blonde for the first time all night, but like the brunette had for the vast majority of the evening, Casey completely ignored him.

Finally, her brow furrowed and she looked at Olivia. "What if it's still me?"

It was another angle that hadn't occurred to Olivia and, for a brief moment, she hated that her friend was such an accomplished planner that all the holes in her logic were so painfully clear. Taking a sip of her drink, her eyes fell on the pair of men opposite the ladies, the pair whose eyes were riveted to Olivia, awaiting her response.

She grinned and looked at Casey. "Then you're getting a big, sloppy, wet one at midnight, honey."

Casey groaned. "Oh, god help us all."

The men, however, continued to stare at Olivia, both wondering if she really had the balls to do it. Olivia didn't honestly care who she kissed if it wasn't Elliot. But she was basking in the glow of Elliot's attention for a moment and she smiled, too intoxicated to care that she could easily have been making a fool out of herself in front of people she would have to face again.

Convinced that Elliot was suddenly as mesmerized by her as he'd been by his beer all day, she leaned forward the slightest bit to reveal even more of her skin. "Unless, of course, someone volunteers."

_December 31__st  
__9:59 PM_

Elliot's face was still red, but, Olivia's thoroughly pleased ego realized, his eyes hadn't left hers. In fact, the whole world seemed to have faded away, helped in no little way by Casey, whose transient attraction to Elliot paled in comparison to her friendship with Olivia. She'd dragged Fin from the table and, although Olivia hadn't realized it, Casey's assistance was appreciated.

Elliot swallowed hard before his mouth dropped open, searching for oxygen that was no longer available at their table.

Olivia smiled, realizing that Elliot must have had some inkling of what she was up to. He'd sensed it somehow, knowing she was done chasing him, understanding that she was going in for the kill. He'd tried as hard as he could to resist by not looking at her, as aware of his malleability in her presence as she was. So he'd known she was up to something and he'd known he wasn't able to resist her.

And he'd shown up anyway, adding insult to injury by drinking until there was no inhibition left in him.

Finally his dazed expression resolved itself into a more serious arrangement, his lips only barely curving up at the edges in the sexiest smile Olivia had ever seen. He was giving in, she knew, as his eyes slowly moved over her, dropping from her eyes, down to her highly visible chest, and, eventually, back up to her face. "You coming over here or what?"

She wanted to laugh, but she couldn't. The moment, the one she'd been determined to bring about, was upon them and she accepted that it was far too serious to giggle and flirt. "If you want me to." She had the power once again, and so, felt compelled to give him another chance, one last opportunity to run back to the way things had been.

The half smile vanished as his gaze turned steely, hard and lacking any humor. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Realizing that she might have pushed it too far, that she might have made him think it was all meant to be a never-ending game, that she might never have intended to resolve it, she felt a shiver run through her. He was angry. Turned on, attracted to her, quite interested in resolving the situation, but angry.

Maybe because she'd pushed too hard. Maybe because she'd decided it was do or die. Maybe because she'd demanded control back from him, control that he'd apparently never realized he had.

The wind left her sails instantly, leaving her to feel like a deflated party balloon – useless and sad and ugly and unwanted. She wished she'd brought a coat to pull over her exposed skin, skin she felt guilty and embarrassed and cheap for exposing. She shook her head, hoping her guilt showed in her face. "I should probably stay here." She felt like an idiot for all the flirting, even more so for backing out.

Deep down, some part of her had expected, despite all her careful preparation, that Elliot might, probably would, refuse any advances she made. She was used to being the pursuer, not the prey.

His eyes narrowed and darkened. "Why is that?"

Her eyes widened in response and she swallowed hard. Panic was filling her, the sickening sensation feeling substantive as it welled up. She looked down at herself, expecting to see the panic oozing out of her clothes. She looked back at him and whimpered silently. Perhaps it wasn't panic oozing out of her; it was her resolve, self esteem, and certainty. She suspected there would be a large puddle at her feet if she ever had the nerve to climb to her feet.

"Olivia, I asked you a question." The gleam in his eyes revealed that he thoroughly enjoyed having the power he'd always assumed was hers. But it seemed different than her own enjoyment – it seemed like he was more reserved, more restrained, as though maybe he wasn't really interested. He just wanted to play with her. Like she'd expected to do to him.

She had no idea what the question had been. She couldn't remember where she'd found the nerve to think she could work her partner up like she had. And she couldn't believe that she, of all the confident, self-reliant, strong-willed women on Earth, was freaking out at the notion that Elliot was fighting back. "What was the question?" She didn't recognize the sound of her own voice. She sounded like a child or someone overwhelmed with a fear of public speaking who'd just been handed a microphone.

"I wanted to know why you're so afraid to come sit next to me." He swirled the beer around in his bottle nonchalantly. He motioned at her vaguely. "You're clearly not afraid of getting the attention of every other man around."

She tried to take a sip and found it was hard to force it down her throat. Fury burned her veins at the idea that he was calling her a slut, sort of. Embarrassment froze them a second later when she remembered that all her careful planning had resulted in Elliot thinking she looked like a whore. It had all been intended for him and he didn't like it. He didn't appreciate it. Hell, he didn't even realize she'd made any effort whatsoever.

She shrugged uncomfortably, wanting to defend herself and disappear, although not necessarily in that order. "That wasn't the intention."

He seemed amused as he raked his eyes over her pushed up chest. "Were you trying to get Casey's attention then?"

Tears stung her eyes as she looked away. She'd just wanted him to notice her, really notice her. She wanted him to touch her, to understand that he could. She wanted him to take what was his.

Her attempt to hide from him fell flat when he moved into her line of sight. He slid into the seat next to her, squeezing in until his side pressed into hers. "I hope you were trying to get someone's attention because you certainly caught mine."

And then she couldn't think anything at all because his lips descended on hers.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_December 31__st  
__10:00 PM_

It shouldn't really have come as a surprise that Elliot was interested. Not when she'd spent years flirting with him and taunting him and, in recent months, even more direct attempts to engage him. And with her clothing choices, she really shouldn't have been surprised his interest had come to a head.

But it was still unbelievable to feel his lips, softer than she would have expected, pushing firmly against hers. It was still amazing to feel his stubble, sharply scratching the sensitive skin of her chin. It was still startling to smell his cologne up so close without the pretense of work to explain it.

And it was still breathtaking when his tongue pressed between her lips, not even waiting for her permission before invading her mouth.

She wanted to sigh, to let some of the feelings escape vocally, but his mouth was insistent, keeping her mouth open with his and stealing her breath before she could even moan. He didn't stop with her breath. He wanted everything, her mouth, her skin, her body, even her thoughts. As though she was capable of coherent thought and that a coherent thought would tell her to pull away, Elliot had insurance that would not happen. His arms had snaked around her, pulling her torso flush against his, caging her with those strong arms. His hands weren't resting either, skimming the hem of her shirt, worming their way under the satiny fabric, intensely warming the already overheated skin.

She was fairly certain that she was about to spontaneously combust.

Of course, she was also fairly certain that it couldn't be called spontaneous if it was triggered by the hottest man in the world.

_December 31__st  
__10:06 PM_

"Get a room!" Casey's line would have be unappreciated, had either Elliot or Olivia looked up.

Instead, it was an ice cube, fished out of someone's drink, that sailed between the couple and lodged in Olivia's shirt, which had the power to separate them. And that was only because Olivia, who had been pretty sure she was about to erupt in flame, shrieked from the unexpected temperature change, in her bra of all places.

As she shifted uncomfortably trying to remove the offensive bit from her person, Elliot pulled his attention to the intruder. He was unhappy and his tone reflected it. "Can I help you?"

Casey slid into the booth across from them, her smile directed at Olivia to let her know that she recognized Olivia's success in realizing her goal. "Fin made a friend." She nodded toward the dance floor, indicating Fin who was quite happily entrenched in a woman's personal space. "So I wanted to come check on you guys."

Olivia wiggled, more to enjoy the feeling of Elliot's body pressing into hers than to actually adjust anything. "We're good."

Casey raised her eyebrow. "Yeah, I see that." She leaned across the table, taking a sip of one of the abandoned drinks.

Elliot's irritation hadn't faded, probably due to the fact that Olivia's wiggling had done nothing to alleviate his body's response to touching her. "I thought you didn't trust other people with your drinks."

Shrugging, Casey took another sip. "That was when I was sober." She giggled. "Now I don't care so much."

Olivia started to feel bad, noticing that every member of their party was hooking up with someone except for Casey. She hated to say the words, but she felt she had to. "Do you want me to dance with you?"

Casey looked at Elliot, no longer interested in the least in enticing him. "Can I borrow her? Just a second?"

Dismay flashed on Elliot's face, but he moved out of the way to allow Olivia to escape the confines of the booth. He looked like he wanted to say something, perhaps 'hurry back' but he said nothing. Olivia expected that the newness of their physical relationship, the unfamiliarity of parting ways after making out, the confusion as to what would happen when she returned, when they were alone again, left him uncertain and nervous.

Olivia was torn herself. She wanted to reattach herself to Elliot, continue doing what they were doing without further interruption. But she also kind of wanted to talk to him, just a bit, to see what he was thinking. The only words they'd said to each other had been stilted and weird and they'd hardly reached an understanding about what they were doing. She'd frustrated Elliot beyond control, she knew that. And she was sure he fully expected her to resolve what she'd done to him with her outfit and blatant flirting. But she wasn't sure if he had any thoughts beyond a quickie in the bathroom.

And she needed to know that before she resolved his physical discomfort. Because she was liable to say something stupid, something along the lines of admitting that she loved him and she wanted him to leave his wife and move in with her, something that would best remain unsaid if he was going to be waking up in the morning in the bed he shared with Kathy.

_December 31__st  
__10:08 PM_

Olivia sized up the man Casey was pointing at, trying to sober up enough to determine the relative value of his looks. Casey knew him, had apparently seen him at the courthouse, and knew that he was a decent lawyer. But there was the possible future pain of having to work with him, against him technically, and Casey needed Olivia's opinion to decide if the risk was worth it.

Olivia was the best judge, Casey said, because she'd just put her career on the line to play tonsil hockey with a coworker so she'd know better than anyone.

Unfortunately, after approximately a second of looking at the well-dressed, clean-cut bachelor, the brunette's attention had been diverted back to Elliot. He was staring at her, the heat in his stare convincing her that he was not about to have a rational discussion with her until after she'd satisfied him.

"Liv? What do you think? Worth it?" Casey's own eyes were glued to her possible bedmate, unaware of Olivia's preoccupation.

"Oh, yeah, most definitely." And he was, Olivia knew, having him, calling him hers for even just one tryst, was worth any damage to her career. His heated stare had somewhat melted her brain and she wasn't even sure she cared if they had a chance to talk. She needed to get back to him, to end the recently developed anxiety of not being in contact with him. "I have to have him, Casey."

"Huh?" Casey's head whipped toward her friend. "You already have the hottest guy in the place. You don't need mine too." And then she realized where Olivia was looking. Irritated, she knocked her arm against Olivia's. "What's the verdict?"

Olivia's eyes went wide, drunken confusion taking over her thoughts. "What? What verdict?"

"You are no help at all."

Olivia's eyes started to wander back to Elliot, but she forced herself to look at Casey. "Can I go?"

Casey nodded. "I'll be keeping Brian company tonight." She winked and shoved Olivia toward her partner. "Take him home. No point in waiting around here until midnight."

She didn't know what possessed her, but Olivia sat down on the far side of the table. "Casey and Fin have made alternate plans."

Elliot nodded without checking to make sure her statement was accurate. "So they're not coming back here."

Olivia nodded, trying very hard to follow the conversation that already seemed very complicated. "Uh huh."

Elliot smiled. "So we can leave without upsetting them."

Olivia nodded again and took a sip of Elliot's beer, thinking it might help clear her head. It didn't, so she took a few more, just to be sure. Finally Elliot reached out and took the beer from her, holding her hand still when she tried to reach for it. "I was drinking that."

"Let's get out of here." Elliot stood up, tugging on Olivia's hand.

She half complied, scooting the edge of the seat before she tugged back. "But it's not midnight yet."

The whole point of going out that night had been to get her kiss at midnight, after all.

Elliot grinned, taking her other hand and pulling her to her feet. "Oh, you'll get your kiss, honey."


	5. Chapter 5

_December 31__st  
__10:32 PM_

Olivia's apartment was not really that far from the bar. Not far in terms of a sober woman who was coordinated and dressed appropriately. But between Olivia's level of intoxication, her terribly short skirt and her incredibly high heels, she could barely stagger along, even with a drunk Elliot picking up a good bit of the slack.

And there was also a bit of a delay due to the fact that every few feet, Elliot would press her with full length body contact into the wall of a building, and steal a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss from her. Not that she was thinking of withholding it anyway. Each time his body leaned into hers, she felt the pressure of his erection proving his desire for her.

Her body responded without conscious intent, hands gripping his jacket, legs parting for his. Her mouth stayed open all the time, not only to make it easier for his tongue to enter, but also because she could barely draw in enough air. She was practically panting, her heightened senses already desperate to explore more of him.

_December 31__st  
__10:38 PM_

On second thought, the stairs might have been a bad idea. But when faced with the empty elevator, Elliot had been quite honest and straightforward in declaring that they'd never make it to her apartment if they got in the elevator together.

Of course, Olivia wasn't so sure that trying to hold themselves together long enough to climb the stairs was worth the effort. She was perfectly willing to go all night, as many times as her partner could manage, until she passed out in satiated, drunken euphoria.

They seemed to make it about two steps on average before Olivia's stumbling landed her in Elliot's arms or in some intimate contact which would divert their attention and they would spend several minutes tangling tongues until they remembered they were aiming for a bed. Or even a room where they could really get down to business.

_December 31__st  
__10:42 PM_

"Finally!" She'd never been so happy to see her door. She thrust her keys toward the lock, hoping they would somehow magically find their way to open the door for her. Because she was thoroughly distracted by the feeling of Elliot's lips on her neck.

His lips lifted slightly. "I thought we'd never get here." His hands moved toward her waist, starting to feel the tie of her infamous shirt.

The sensation of his calloused hands rubbing her skin, trying to open her shirt so he could touch more of her, overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and let her forehead fall against the door. She wanted to tell him to hurry up, to tear the clothes from her body, to finish what he'd started almost a decade earlier when he'd shaken her hand.

When he spoke again, though, his voice was laced with anger. "Open the damn door."

Her eyes snapped open, recognizing his tone wasn't a good thing, but not quite sure what to do about it. She forced herself to focus on her keys and separate the one that would unlock the door. But she was having trouble lining it up with the door handle and she fumbled repeatedly with it. She was almost scared to bring his attention to the problem but she saw no other way to get inside the apartment. "El?" She tried to speak in a normal tone, but his mouth was working wonders on her skin and she could barely form the thought, let alone the word.

And suddenly the hands that were massaging her skin and working at undressing her tightened almost painfully around her waist. "Are you fucking kidding me?" There was no question that he was angry as he hissed the words against her ear.

She wanted to explain herself, to tell him she wasn't turning him away, to deny that she would be so cruel, but she didn't get the chance. He moved quickly, spinning her body around to face him and pinning her roughly against the door. His body was tight along hers, but his face pulled away, allowing her to see his eyes, dark and burning with fire.

He pressed a little harder, not knowing the door knob was shoving painfully into her back. "What's wrong with you? What do you think you're doing?"

She couldn't speak fast enough to defuse his anger, so she shook her head in an attempt to convey that wasn't her intention.

His eyes searched hers. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never known him to have much control of his temper. She'd never seen him well and truly drunk and she unhappily realized that the addition of alcohol only lessened his ability to keep his temper at bay.

She didn't want to be afraid of her partner, and she wasn't, not really. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. The problem was that he was extremely angry with her, the same way she would be with him if she perceived that he was pulling the same shit with her that he thought she was pulling on him. Despite her innate knowledge that he would never hurt her, she was shaking and sounded terrified when she responded. "I'm too drunk to get the key in the lock."

He stared at her for a long time, searching her eyes to measure the veracity of her statement. Finally he nodded, his silent apology written all over his face as he took the keys from her hand. "You could have told me. I thought you were backing out on me."

She was about to reply when the door gave behind her, evidence that he possessed much more eye-hand coordination when he was drunk than she did. Instead of speaking, she tried to keep herself balanced. When that failed, she latched onto him and trusted him to support her.

He did as she expected, wrapping his arms around her to hold her up. His foot kicked the door closed and he kept one arm tight around her while he turned the lock with the other. He used his leverage over her to direct her, although she was a little irritated that he was steering her toward the couch rather than the bedroom.

She pulled on his shirt, finding his lips and gently nipping at them. The action stopped him from walking anywhere as his tongue immediately sought the warmth of her mouth. Distracted as he'd been with his anger, her explanation, and trying to walk for both of them, his body needed no further prompting to pick up where he'd left off.

As his mouth moved to brand the skin on her neck, she grinned at the wall behind his head. "El, the bedroom is that way." She'd had sex on a couch before. She'd had sex on her couch before. But she'd never had sex with Elliot before and she wanted the freedom to move rather than constantly be afraid that one or both of them was about to wind up on the floor.

She expected agreement, perhaps a comment as he changed direction and steered them toward the more comfortable surface. All she got was his mouth unlatching from her skin and his dazed stare meeting hers.

"Shit."

Confused, she tried to understand. "But the couch works too. Or the floor. Or the wall." Because in the end, it didn't matter where she fucked him, not so long as she fucked him.

He was shaking his head as he started moving toward the couch again. He lowered her carefully into a sitting position and then settled himself on the edge of the coffee table. She smiled, wondering what he was planning. Not that she really cared. She waited for him to move, to do something, to indicate what he wanted her to do.

_December 31__st  
__10:53 PM_

He was staring at her.

Just staring.

All she could think about was how sexy his eyes were.

_December 31__st  
__10:54 PM_

He was staring at her with his sexy eyes.

Not saying a word.

She shivered in anticipation of what he'd do to her.

_December 31__st  
__10:55 PM_

He was staring at her with his sexy eyes without giving any indication that he was going to do anything at all to her.

He wasn't even blinking.

It was starting to creep her out.

_December 31__st  
__10:56 PM_

"El?" She'd never been scared of her partner, not even when he'd been pushing her and yelling at her in the hall.

But he'd never given so much of a hint that he was seriously disturbed before.

He started shaking his head again, but at least he reached for her ankle and worked the buckle of her shoe. She wasn't going to complain, not when he was finally moving again. Besides, he made taking off her shoes really, really sexy. He set her right foot on the coffee table beside him before he reached for her left, repeating the process.

When he was finished, Olivia smiled. Clearly he was undressing her, had insinuated himself between her legs, and was about to take things to the next level. Obviously, of course, because splitting her legs far enough to rest on either side of him pushed her skirt up too high for his intention to include anything besides something that would result in him seeing that perfectly ridiculous little triangle she'd worn as a nod in the direction of underwear.

She giggled, just wondering what his reaction would be. She doubted he'd ever seen anything of the sort meant for him.

He leaned forward, resting his weight on his hands on either side of her.

Her giggles faded away as she licked her lips in excitement. God, the man could really drag things out.

"You're really drunk, aren't you?"

The question seemed preposterous and she laughed in response. Of course she was drunk. He'd watched her pounding down drinks.

His weight shifted suddenly, allowing his lips to press against her forehead. She didn't have a chance to ask him what the hell was going on before he was on his feet, carefully stepping over her extended leg. "Want some water?"

_December 31__st  
__11:02 PM_

Elliot was settled beside her on the couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand lightly caressing the skin of her arm. His other hand held a bottle of water that they were splitting. He appeared to be entirely fascinated by the newscasters.

Olivia was fuming. He didn't want to take advantage of her, he'd said, but he'd promised her a New Year's kiss. So he was going to sit there and watch the reports on New Year's Rockin' Fucking Eve while her body melted from the fire that he'd stoked and neglected to put out. She was so pissed off she wanted to kill him.

But she was too drunk to walk away. Because she'd tried.

And falling on her ass only fueled his claim that she was too intoxicated to decide to fuck him, he'd said.

Her response of 'Fuck you' had only been met with a chuckle and his chivalrous arms lifting her back onto the couch.

_December 31__st  
__11:08 PM_

She wasn't fuming anymore, but that was only because she couldn't remember why she'd been mad in the first place.

She was tired, however, and the cradle between Elliot's body and his outstretched arm was the most comfortable spot she'd ever found in all her life. It was warm and soft and hard and seemed to be made exactly for her shoulder to fill while his shoulder formed the perfect pillow.

She smiled, extremely pleased that she'd somehow wound up snuggling up to her partner. Closing her eyes, she gave into the sleep that called to her.

_December 31__st  
__11:58 PM_

"Babe?" A gentle shaking accompanied the soft voice, but she was far too comfy to respond. She smiled and snuggled in.

"Liv, wake up."

That voice was different. It wasn't the soothing voice of her date who was holding her. It was the deadly serious voice of her partner, with whom she should not have been cuddling. She jerked up, a throbbing in her head explaining why she couldn't remember how she'd wound up there.

"El?" She squinted against the bright light of the room which was doing little to stop her head from pounding. "What's going on?"

He smiled as he pulled her back against his side. "It's almost midnight."

She looked around, offering the resistance to his arm that she figured he expected. "What the-" Her eyes settled on her thighs, on the hose that were so sheer she could barely describe them as black. Taking in how terribly short her skirt was, even if it hadn't ridden up so far, she searched her memory for clues. Then her eyes traveled up to her blouse, gaining the knowledge that she was wearing her super-sexy blouse and that the knot holding it closed was half undone. And then she took in the frightening expanse of her chest, feeling the underwire of her bra digging into her flesh.

Good god, what had she done?

Her partner was grinning at her when she finally looked back at him. "Tell me you're sober."

She nodded slowly, not wanting to set her head to throbbing any worse than it already was. "Yeah, should I even ask?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she didn't want to not know either.

"Here." He handed her a bottle of Advil and she accepted it, swallowing down two of the pills with the water bottle he offered.

_December 31__st  
__11:59 PM_

She was about to ask again, to try to put together the vague, confusing flashes in her head when the television caught her attention.

There was Dick Clark, calling out his countdown, his recovery following his stroke remarkable. She smiled as she watched. "20…19…18…"

She was distracted almost immediately by the delectable feeling of fingers combing through her hair. Her head turned toward Elliot and her eyes found his.

He was smiling, not the shit-eating grin he'd had a moment earlier that told him she'd mortified herself in front of him. It was a small smile, a heartfelt one, a loving one. It was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. It made her tingle all over.

"10…9…8…"

She smiled back, forcing her eyes to refocus on his eyes when she noticed they were moving closer.

"7…6…5…"

Her smile disappeared as she realized what was happening. She was still a little slow, more from a hangover than intoxication, and she only just remembered that she'd gone out that evening with every intention of getting a New Year's kiss from Elliot.

"4…3…2…"

She swallowed hard as she tried to look at his mouth. But it was impossible. He was too close. She could feel her heart start to beat furiously as she finally realized what was going to happen. Rather, as she realized what was finally going to happen.

The New Year was bound to be a hit, she thought, with a kiss from Elliot Stabler starting it off.

"1."

The noise from the TV faded away completely, regardless of the happy shouts of people, despite the thousands of people singing Auld Lang Syne. She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't see anything either, although that was likely due to the instinctive way her eyes had closed.

She could smell, though, the thick, musky scent of Elliot's cologne filling her nostrils as she tried to suck in air.

She could feel too, delighting in the strong arms that had locked around her, holding her so close to his body.

And she could taste. Oh, lord, she could taste. His mouth open, his lips against hers, his tongue seeking to fill every void in her mouth.

All of him surrounded her, held her, teased her. Images of their previous kisses, the heady, desperate touches while they were both out of control, came to her, filling her with more confusion. She didn't know how far they'd gone or what had happened, but she knew that, whatever had gone on, he was still there, holding her close, and giving her the best New Year's kiss of all time.

She grinned against his mouth, dizzy from lack of oxygen, unconcerned that she might actually swoon in the man's muscled arms. She didn't know where she found the nerve, especially not with the blanks from the evening, but she didn't care. Forcing herself to pull free of his kiss, but not from his arms, she let him see the dazzling smile and watched as he mirrored it. "Happy New Year, El."

"I wasn't finished." He leaned in, trying to capture her lips again. When she turned her head, he rolled his eyes. "Happy New Year, Liv."

Satisfied in one regard, she met him halfway and let him get back to his task of kissing her quite senseless.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_January 1__st  
__12:05 AM_

Air was so totally overrated. So was breathing.

And the concept of personal space was so ridiculous that Olivia was going to laugh the next time Fin launched into a rant about how Lake had no idea that normal, red-blooded, American men didn't let anyone that close to them unless they were female.

Of course, she accepted that she might feel completely differently regarding the whole personal space thing if it hadn't been violated by Elliot.

A spectacularly turn-on Elliot in particular.

She wiggled, delighting in the feel of his hard on rubbing eagerly against her thigh. My, my, she thought, he was quite pleased with the way she'd insinuated herself into his lap. She wanted to smile, but she was too busy trying to suck every last bit of breath out of the man.

She must have succeeded because a moment, and a few unnecessary wiggles, later, his head fell back against the couch. His hands grabbed her ass, pulling her forward until his erection found the warm cradle of her legs. Oxygen-deprived or not, he still found the strength to grip her knees instead, forcing them apart so he could press himself against her center.

Her own head fell forward, smacking into his shoulder. She thought she might come right there. And that was pretty much the only thought she had.

_January 1__st  
__12:09 AM_

His hands were knotted in her hair, giving him full control of where she looked. Most of the time, she was staring at the ceiling and feeling her chin tickled by his short hair as he worked the skin of her neck so hard she was sure she'd have several bruises in the morning. She didn't mind though because the way his tongue felt as he tasted her skin was liable to make her come too.

Desperate to regain some control, to hold onto some dignity rather than having an Earth-shattering orgasm in the man's arms after he'd only kissed her, she squeezed her legs together around him. His body jerked at the contact, at the grip her body had on him, and she happily heard him moan as his mouth forgot what it was doing.

She looked at him, admiring the pleasure written on his face, amazed that she'd caused it. "What do you say we take this to the bedroom?" Because as much fun as it would be to ride him right where they were, she wanted to be enjoy the inevitable moment when he decided he wanted to be in control and flipped her onto her back, which he wouldn't be able to do without tossing her onto the coffee table.

He groaned as he thrust lightly against her. "Does that mean we have to move?" Because, apparently, he really liked the way they were positioned.

She whimpered, realizing that it might not be physically possible for them to stop long enough to make such a concession. Still, as his hands moved over the top of her thighs, pushing her skirt up further, she knew they'd never have sex while her pantyhose were in place.

Although, she admitted, she doubted the thin nylon would stand much of a chance against Elliot's hands if that was the only barrier.

A sexy grin spread over her face as she forced herself to slide off his lap. "I'll give you some incentive." She hadn't bothered to smooth out her skirt when she stood, so she couldn't count the almost obscene expanse of leg. She went for her shirt instead, loving the way his eyes darkened as her fingers slowly loosened what was left of the knot. His eyes were glued to her hands as she pulled the fabric apart.

She remembered putting on the shirt, the care that had gone into making the knot just right. She made sure she took as much time to undo it, to hold her partner hostage by her methodical movements. She had every intention of giving him a strip tease, of torturing him while her fingers took forever to work each button. But she only got as far as the bottom one.

Because Elliot stood up, taking each of the sides in his hands, and pulling them apart.

There were tiny pings of the buttons as they hit various surfaces in her living room. There was a lighthearted giggle following those that Olivia couldn't hide.

She smacked at his chest playfully. "Hey, this is my favorite shirt!" And it was. Anything that had the result of Elliot ripping it from her body was her favorite.

He smiled as he pushed the shirt over her shoulders, moving his hands over her flesh as he uncovered it. "Mine too." Grinning, he leaned down to let his mouth follow the path of one of his hands, his lips dancing along her collarbone in one direction and then the other.

As he pushed the shirt over her wrists, his hands grabbed hers, and she flattened herself against him, into his frame, delighting in the feel of his considerable size next to her own. She smiled against his shirt from the simple pleasure she found in the feeling of his hands on hers.

"It's ruined now." She pouted when he pulled away to look at her, although the fact that his eyes stayed on hers rather than moving to her chest pleased her.

"I'll buy you a new one." His mouth found hers, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "I'll buy you one in every color if you promise to wear it every day."

She grinned and moved his hands, guiding them first to her waist and then slowly upward over her skin. "That'll get mighty expensive if you rip them all."

His eyes faltered, leaving hers just as she moved his hands to cup her breasts. His mouth dropped open when he watched his hands touching her. When his eyes finally moved back to hers, his pupils were so wide he looked drugged. "At least it'll let Cragen know he's been right about us all this time."

The mention of her boss's name might have been enough to ruin the mood, except that Elliot was softly tracing the pattern of the lace, his fingers circling her nipples time and again without once giving her the thrill of actual contact. Groaning, she pushed her chest forward, asking him without words to hurry up.

He laughed, his hands obeying her command, his thumbs finding her peaks and flicking at them. "And here I was afraid Cragen might be a mood killer."

She couldn't help but laugh and moan her enjoyment at the same time, creating a sound she was sure hadn't really been a turn on for him. Kicking at him, she searched for his eyes, the sight somehow far more sobering than it had been all night.

It hit home so fast she didn't know what was happening. Her stomach rolled, her face fell, her eyes threatened tears.

"Liv?" His hands abandoned her breasts, moving to cup her cheeks instead. "What's wrong?"

She hated herself for saying it, for even thinking it, but she couldn't continue. She wished her blouse was still on her, rather than crumpled on the floor. "You're married." She wanted to run away and hide. She resented that she had to be the one to remind him.

But he didn't look away or disappointed or pissed off. His eyes warmed, as though he'd doubted she'd remind him of such a thing, as though it had raised her further in his esteem that she had. "Do you trust me?"

The question wasn't one that either of them was liable to take lightly. Trust was an important issue in their line of work. Still, she didn't need a moment to think. "Yes."

He nodded, letting his hands move from her face and over her shoulders, pulling her against him in a hug. "Then it's ok."

"How?" She didn't doubt him, but she didn't understand either.

"Later, baby." His lips moved over her hair, dropping kisses along the way. His hands moved as well, returning to her shoulders to slide the straps of her bra down her arms.

And then he was back on the couch, urging her to kneel as his mouth caressed the skin of her chest. She braced herself against his shoulders, thankful for his strength as he helped steady her.

She needed the help a moment later when his mouth closed over her breast, bra and all. As it was, she fell forward and let his hands absorb her full weight.

_January 1__st  
__12:17 AM_

She could feel the fluid accumulating in her pantyhose. Nylon was no better than the centimeter thick string between her legs at absorbing it and she feared it would be extremely embarrassing when she dripped onto his lap.

Although with the way he was sucking on her nipple much the way she imagined a very hungry infant might, she wasn't sure he'd notice.

She ran her fingers over his head, trying to get enough of a grip on his short hair to pull him away. When that failed, she pushed her weight back, hoping that he'd catch her before she smashed through her coffee table. Her plan worked, distracting him from her breasts while he caught her.

"Bedroom?" As always, he read her mind.

She nodded, trying to find the tension in her legs to stand. Unfortunately, Elliot's attentions had coiled all of the tension she was capable of producing between her legs.

Luckily, he was still able to figure out the problem. He stood up carefully, keeping her in his arms. Being just as skilled with teamwork, her legs wrapped around his waist, anchoring her body to his. He started toward the bedroom blind, with his face buried in her neck.

Gravity being what it was, her weight slipped a little with each step, until she was fairly certain that his erection was doing a lot of the work of lifting her. She started to giggle, wondering if perhaps there was a special workout he did that resulted in a particularly strong dick.

And then she slammed into the wall so hard that the wind was completely knocked out of her. She looked up, stunned at the dark, dangerous eyes of her partner.

"You know, it's hard enough to carry you around with the way you're bouncing up and down on me, but now you're laughing?" He sounded so mad she started to think he didn't like her.

She wanted to explain, but all the humor left her. "The bedroom's awfully far away." And then she squirmed, on purpose, to remind him that he did like her. Very much so.

Having pinned her against the wall allowed him to reach for her skirt, shoving it up to her waist. She hadn't expected anything in the way of romance really, but the idea that he was going to screw her, half dressed, up against the wall was a little upsetting.

But then his hands moved from her waste to her thighs and back again. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He was looking down, quite dismayed at the body that was still wrapped around him. "You're trying to kill me, woman."

She giggled again at the realization that her hose might well be his undoing. He fumbled at her waist, trying to find the top of them. And then she remembered his action with her shirt and her thoughts regarding the pantyhose. Catching his eye, she smiled, deciding that if they're going to fuck up against the wall dressed, then her pantyhose aren't going anywhere. "Rip them."

And to spur him on, just in case he doubted her word, she grabbed his shirt and popped several of the buttons off. As her mouth came in contact with his throat, she felt his hands griping at the nylon.

And then she felt a rush of cold air as he split them apart.

_January 1__st  
__12:20 AM_

She didn't really care if they had sex anymore. She was having too good a time. After she'd sucked at least three hickeys out of his pale skin, she moved on to ripping off the rest of the buttons on his shirt. Then her lips and hands were free to roam over the skin she'd so desperately wanted to touch for so long.

Elliot had frozen, his hands still gripping her ass, his body still holding hers against the wall. His eyes were closed, his forehead on hers. He was enjoying her touch, allowing his hips to grind into hers to show his appreciation when her fingers found his nipples. Encouraged, she bent her head, trying to get her mouth to the same location.

The movement shifted her weight, causing Elliot to have to bend his knees and pull her into him to keep from letting go.

The movement realigned their bodies just so and all of a sudden, Olivia remembered why she wanted to have sex.

Fuck foreplay.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face next to hers and hissing in his ear. "Are you waiting for an invitation?"

He chuckled, moving his hands over her hips and waist, probably searching for enough fabric to constitute underwear. "Wasn't that the point of your shirt?"

She slapped his back, making sure she kissed his neck in apology. "So what the hell are you waiting for?"

He pulled back slightly as it finally sunk into his brain that his hands weren't finding anything besides skin. "Don't tell me you're not wearing panties."

She smiled and wiggled her hips, knowing they were at the moment she'd been hoping to see. "Oh, I'm wearing panties. Sort of."

His mouth dropped open as he looked at her. Finally, he leaned back to look, hiking her skirt up out of the way. "Fuck, Olivia." He was just staring at her. Well, not at her, per se, but down there. Staring. Like a man who'd never seen the holy land. "Holy fucking Christ."

She giggled. "I take it you approve."

His eyes finally came back to hers. "Oh, I approve all right."

She didn't get another chance to speak because the moment she opened her mouth, his tongue invaded it.

_January 1__st  
__12:23 AM_

Distracted as she was with his kiss, she wanted to move things along. Not that she wasn't pleased with his reaction to her choice of under clothes. In fact, she'd be happy to let him stare to his heart's content after they finished. Her hands went to work, nails streaking down his arms as she shoved his shirt out of the way.

As soon as he was free of it, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. His scent assailed her again, stronger due to his rising body heat and uninhibited by his shirt.

The feel of his bare chest pressed to hers was as distracting as his tongue and she couldn't do anything but whimper at the sensation. He liked it as well, using his leverage to thrust against her.

She grinned against his ear, appreciating his body's attempt to hurry things along. "I hate to have to explain this, but it might work better if you took your pants off, you know." She wanted to laugh at the growl her comment produced, but she couldn't.

Because he'd unceremoniously reached between them, unzipped his fly, and freed his erection from the confines of his pants in nothing short of record time.

And then he looked at her, a hint of a smirk on his face. "I have five kids, sweetheart, I know how it works." His hips pushed against hers again, that time without any barrier between them, and the head of his penis wedged into her folds.

She bit her lip, refusing to allow herself to scream at the contact.

But, good god, she wanted to.

And she kind of wanted to apologize in advance since she was pretty sure she was going to come so hard and so fast that she'd be sound asleep before he even got all the way inside her.

His head leaned toward her again, his lips skimming over her cheek and ear. "You're so fucking wet, Liv."

"Whose fault is that?" She'd been embarrassed at the thought of it, but he seemed to like it.

He didn't answer, instead reaching between them again, letting his fingers feel their way across her clit. She moaned and shivered and sunk her nails into his back as his fingers tickled the nerves there for only a moment before moving to enter her. It was adorable, she thought, that he was testing her with his fingers, checking that she was ready for him, even when her fluids were probably coating his hand with the obvious answer.

But then his fingers started to move, pumping in and out, his thumb brushing her center as his fingers pressed inside her body. Her nails dug in harder, afraid she'd fly off into oblivion if she didn't keep herself attached to him.

"Jesus, what are you doing?" She was panting and whimpering and thrusting in answer to his hand, all the while feeling his erection throbbing and jerking against her ass.

"Come on, Liv. Come for me." His voice was barely recognizable, forced out between pants. Beads of sweat were popping out across his brow and along his back.

She shook her head, telling herself more than she was telling him. "No, I want you inside me."

His hand thrust up harder and she could feel her body stretching to grant him access. "I am inside you."

When his teeth closed around her earlobe a second later, she felt her whole world explode.

_January 1__st  
__12:26 AM_

Her head lolled on his shoulder as the fireworks began to fade from behind her closed eyes. "El." She didn't know what she wanted to say. She just wanted to say his name, to assure herself that he was really there.

His lips fell on her cheek. "I'm here, baby."

She smiled without lifting her head. "I never liked pet names."

"Then you've probably about had it with me tonight, huh?"

She laughed, tightening her arms around him. "Then again, you've always been a bit of a rule breaker, haven't you?"

"Not until I met you." He grinned at her, seeming to disregard his own needs to allow her to enjoy her release.

She finally found the strength to lift her head, her arms draping over his shoulders as her fingertips caressed the angry red streaks she'd left on his back. "What are partners for?" To illustrate that she wasn't talking about work, she drew her hands toward her, smoothing over his shoulders and chest. They slowly danced over his skin, marveling in the incredible strength he possessed to be able to hold her like that without appearing to even notice her weight.

Eventually her hands reached his waist, where their path was blocked by her legs, still locked at the ankle behind him.

She hated it, but she unhooked her ankles and slowly lowered her legs. His hands were on her ass, holding her feet a few inches off the floor. She pushed at his wrists, telling him to let her go. As much as she wanted to stay in his arms, she kind of hoped to push him past the point of being able to hold both of them up.

She reached for him as soon as her feet touched the ground, but his hands looped around her wrists and held her still. Confused her eyes darted to his.

"I'm only human, Liv. You touch me and this is over." He smiled ruefully as he started toward the bedroom, stopping now and then to thoroughly investigate the structure of her mouth with his tongue.

And somehow, due mostly to the fact that his tongue was rather gifted, she felt the tension coiled back between her legs by the time they made it to her bed. She barely had time to feel the bed behind her knees before his hands were on her back, supporting her as she lay back. He made quick work of his pants and boxers, especially so since he'd already conveniently relocated the important part of himself outside the constraints.

She watched as his attention became redirected at her, enjoying the view of a completely naked Elliot stripping off her skirt. Her thong caught his eye again, likely because the tiny thing was the only piece of clothing between the two of them.

Slipping his fingers under the lace that formed sides, he smirked at her. "Have you ever worn these to work?"

She could see the wheels turning in his head and she wished she could say she had, because she knew such a response would forever make him wonder what she had on under her dress pants. She shook her head sadly. "I always have to worry what a doctor might think if I get hurt." She shrugged. It was true, a sad fact that all cops had to consider when they dressed. What they wore might be on display to their coworkers or an emergency room staff or, god forbid, the coroner they'd worked with.

His attention was immediately diverted and his body moved to cover hers, his face suddenly level with hers and his finger pressing over her mouth. "Don't talk like that."

"Why not?" Her tongue darted out, swirling around the tip of his finger while her eyes promised him it was only a hint of what she could do if he'd only let her.

He refused to be distracted. "It's bad luck."

She grinned, opting to suck his finger into her mouth, hell bent on distracting him. "I don't need luck. I have you."

"Yes, you do." He pulled his finger out of her mouth without any warning, replacing it with his lips.

_January 1__st  
__12:29 AM_

If he didn't learn to keep his tongue to himself, he was going to wind up never actually getting off.

And if he had stopped kissing her long enough, she would have told him as much.

Not that she really minded.

_January 1__st  
__12:31 AM_

She really didn't mind at all when his tongue started lapping at her skin, carefully tracing her body. He worshipped at her breasts, kissing and licking and sucking, until she was practically screaming. And then his body shifted further down, leaving a hot, wet trail along her stomach and hips.

Until he found her panties again.

And once again, he grinned up at her. "These belong in a museum."

She tried to laugh, except her body was way too wound up for it. "Had I any idea what they would do to you, El, I would have modeled them a long time ago."

His fingers found the sides, slowly lowering them as his lips pressed along the newly exposed skin. "Should I ask what other secret weapons you have in your arsenal?"

She did laugh, unable to stop the momentary release of tension. "If you're good, I'll model them all." She didn't have that many, not really, but she had a credit card. As soon as Elliot left, which she prayed wouldn't be for a long time, she was going online and ordering until the Visa fraud people called and asked her what she was up to. And then she'd fax them a picture of Elliot and continue shopping.

The release of tension was terribly short. There was just no way for her to be calm and relaxed as Elliot Stabler removed her panties. There was just no way for her to be calm and relaxed as Elliot Stabler kissed his way down one leg all the way to her toes and then back up the other.

She was getting desperate, pain burning her fingers from the death grip she had on her mattress. She knew exactly what he was intending and, god bless the man, any other time she would have happily spread her legs for him to kiss whatever else he wanted.

But she was ready to go and this time, this one particular time, she wanted to feel him inside her when she came. And not just his hand.

She let go of the mattress with one hand and snagged his ear just as his mouth was moving from her thigh to her hip. It was the only way she'd get him to give up, but luckily, she knew it would work.

His face was unhappy when it moved even with hers and she knew he was about to say something angry. He didn't like being told what to do, or not to do apparently. She silenced him with a kiss, the likes of which he'd been tormenting her with all night. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, dueling with his as she learned the feel and taste of him.

Forget the eye candy, she just wanted to suck face forever.

But then she felt his dick, swollen and hard and throbbing, at her entrance.

Forget sucking face. She wanted to fuck him forever. She didn't even have to try it to know.

Her legs wound around him again, giving him no more excuses. He pulled back from their kiss and looked at her, holding her eyes reverently as he slid home.

It was then that she realized why he'd been so cautious, so insistent that she come first, so pleased to find her wet. He was huge, something she'd always suspected and finally had proof of. Olivia was no saint and had never shied away from sex. She'd had lovers who were average and tiny and large and caring and callous.

But she'd never felt anything like Elliot's dick stretching her body as far as it would go, filling her so completely she wondered if he'd be able to get himself back out. She was afraid as she raked her nails across his back once again that she'd have to tell him she couldn't take anymore, that she was too small for him. And just as the words were forming, she felt his balls touch her skin. His head lowered to hers and he stayed there, buried to the hilt inside her, feeling their connection, for a long time.

She sighed, letting out the fear that she wouldn't be able to please him. Her nails relaxed and her fingers moved to caress the damage she'd done to his skin.

He lifted his head, his eyes full of emotion. "Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head, realizing that he might have felt her tension. She smiled. "No. You're perfect."

And he was, exactly filling her body, bringing her to the edge without having to try.

His mouth found hers, kissing her deeply as his body pulled back. Even knowing that it was part of the dance, she almost cried out at the loss of the exquisite pressure. She knew it wouldn't take long for her to climax again, not with the way he made her body come alive. It would have been embarrassing, like the wetness oozing from her body, except that he liked it. He was trying to meet the rhythm her hips were suggesting while trying to set his own pace, but when her muscles tensed, he would pause and let her enjoy it.

But his arms were starting to shake and she could feel the muscles tensing in his back and shoulders. He was trying to hold out for her, remarkable since he'd already pleasured her once, amazing since few men did at all what he'd already done for her. She held him tight, locking her ankles together as she hugged his chest to hers.

"It's ok, El, I'm ok." She was so close she knew a few more thrusts would finish her and she honestly doubted he'd make it through that, not with the tight fit of her body around him.

His body froze and he looked at her, terror and anxiety joining with the pleasure to twist his handsome features. "I swear, it's never been like this." He swallowed hard, staring at her for a long time.

And she did what she'd sworn she wouldn't because she was moved beyond the point of tears. "I love you."

The moment it left her lips, she feared it was the wrong thing to say, especially since he hadn't answered her about his wife. He'd only told her it was ok, but that was hardly definitive. But she did trust him.

He nodded, letting his mouth descend on hers as his body began to move with a bit less finesse, but a lot more purpose. "I know."

She wasn't expecting a declaration, not in light of the fact that she part of her still wanted to un-say the words. But she let his answer wash over her even as his body started to slam harder into hers.

He knew she loved him. Despite all the flirting and toying and games. Despite all the fighting and yelling and pushing him away. Despite her best efforts to keep herself locked far away from everyone and anyone who could truly wound her. He knew. He really knew. He hadn't been shocked to hear it. Maybe he'd always known.

And he was still there, still at her side everyday. Still there for her when she refused to confide in him.

Still fucking her, in her bed, on New Year's because she'd insisted on getting a kiss at midnight.

If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

She felt her muscles contract, somehow so tight even after her earlier release that her back lifted clear off the bed in a painfully sudden arch. Her legs gripped his body, causing pain from the uncomfortable angle to shoot through her thighs. Her nails dug into his skin again, drawing a hiss of pain from him. Her mouth connected with his throat, intending to kiss him, and instead, her teeth latched onto his skin and muscle, biting down until she was sure it would scar.

But she couldn't force herself to let go. Not any of her. Her body was under his control, finding the coordination in her position, to meet his thrusts.

Her internal muscles contracted as she finally reached the peak, her rhythm stopping without warning as her body prepared to fall.

He pulled out, almost completely from her, only to immediately shove all the way back in, sending her flying over the edge. The fire in her body was white-hot and all encompassing as it shot through every nerve, leaving her quivering and spent in its wake. As the tremors continued to run through her, slowly unraveling what he'd been working on for years, she felt his pace fail entirely. He thrust into her hard and fast three more times before his own climax, coming inside her, as his body collapsed onto hers.

They lay there, shivering and shaking and satiated without a word. There was nothing to say. There was nothing they needed to hear.

_January 1__st  
__1:12 AM_

"I'm cold." It had taken a good long time for her to find her voice, only to discover that she hadn't found her voice. Instead she'd found the voice of a four-year-old with laryngitis. "El? Are you awake?"

"I'm cold too." He'd apparently had the same issue, and result, with his voice. "But I'm not about to move." And then to belie his words, he propped himself up on one arm. "Am I crushing you?"

She squealed at the cold air that assaulted her the moment his chest lifted from hers. "Get back here!" She pulled at his arm to get him to cover her once again.

"We're going to freeze to death." He tried to roll to the side, but her legs were still wrapped around him, her feet long since having gone numb.

"Where do you think you're going?" She wasn't about to let go of him, not when that meant he'd pull out of her. Spent and limp as he might be, she liked him right where he was. Not to mention that she wanted to know the moment he was up for another round.

And apparently, her words were just the thing to trigger his interest. "Oh, I get it. You like me right here, huh?"

She nodded, feeling his body stirring inside her. "I hate to break it to you, but you're not getting out of here without a fight."

He grinned and moved to kiss her again. "I'm not going to put up much of a fight, babe."

_January 1__st  
__1:59 AM_

"I'm cold."

"Let me see what I can do to warm you up."

_January 1__st  
__2:47 AM_

"I'm cold."

"I can fix that."

_January 1__st  
__3:33 AM_

"I'm cold."

"Not this again." He turned his head, his hot breath falling on her shoulder.

"No, really."

"Maybe you should get a blanket."

She kicked him, only lightly since she couldn't seem to lift her leg very far off the bed. "Remind me to kick you tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow."

She reached for the blanket, only to discover that it had relocated to the floor. "Damn it, I can't reach."

Unhappy, Elliot pushed himself up and off her, snagging the blanket and hurling it over them in one quick move. "There, now shut up. I'm tired."

She shifted her feet around until they were tucked in next to his. "And whose fault is that?"

"It's yours. You're the one who wore that shirt and you knew full well what it would do to me since I couldn't take my eyes off you the last time you wore it."

She giggled while his arms wound around her middle. "Well, that's not all you could keep off me tonight."

"I dare you to wear it to work tomorrow."

"That'll be interesting since it doesn't have any buttons."

"That's the point."

_January 1__st  
__3:59 AM_

"Liv?"

"Liv?"

"Honey?"

A sleepy, confused Olivia lifted her head to find Elliot staring at her intently. "I was sleeping." Then she realized what it meant to find Elliot in bed with her and the ache between her legs reminded her that things had gone very well indeed. She smiled happily.

"I never told you what happened."

"I'm pretty sure I remember what happened. Although that last time, my head did hit the wall pretty hard." She giggled, remembering what had been happening when she'd smacked her head.

"With Kathy."

That was a mood killer. Without conscious thought, Olivia began pulling back into herself, trying to disentangle her limbs from his.

His arms stayed tight around her, his mouth moving into her neck. "It's ok, Liv. I just wanted you to know so you didn't think I was just trying to get you in bed."

But her fears were getting the best of her and her body started to fight his in order to retract. She shook her head, promising herself she wouldn't cry. She could hardly ask for more from a married man – they'd had a wonderful time in bed, he'd accepted her declaration of love, he'd even stayed to hold her most of the night.

"It's ok, El, really."

His mouth found her neck and began pressing kisses on her skin. "It's over, Liv. It's really over." Continuing to rain kisses on her face and throat, he shifted up to look at her in between. "We'd been talking about it for a while and I didn't want to say anything until it was definite, but tonight when I went home, I decided it would be better for everyone, especially the kids, if we stopped pretending. She didn't argue with me. She actually said she was planning on asking me to move out after the holidays."

She was quiet for a long time, trying to absorb the information and process it. Her first reaction was to jump up and down for joy, but then she wondered if that meant she was the rebound, the first woman he'd gone after following the dissolution of his marriage.

"I wanted to be with you, Liv, a long time before things with Kathy fell apart." His lips touched hers lightly. "Hell, I wanted to be with you a long, long time ago, Liv."

She smiled, understanding what he was saying, that he wasn't going anywhere ever. "Happy New Year, El."

He didn't answer her. Instead, his lips fastened onto hers and gave her a pretty fair idea of just how good the new year was going to be.


End file.
